


Heartbreaker

by rebecca_selene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:10:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebecca_selene/pseuds/rebecca_selene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Crabbe and Goyle accidentally consume Romilda Vane’s botched first attempt at a love potion, everything goes to hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartbreaker

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2011 [](http://hd_canon_fest.livejournal.com/profile)[**hd_canon_fest**](http://hd_canon_fest.livejournal.com/) with the prompt "It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities" AND for my [](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/) hc_bingo card prompt “love spell/potion gone wrong”

When Harry woke up on the day that marked a week before Christmas, he hadn’t expected any early gifts. He especially did not expect, upon his entrance into the Great Hall for breakfast, to be accosted by so strange a sight as Malfoy’s henchman making eye contact with him and scrambling over each other to kneel before him, lumpy gifts in their outstretched hands.

“Happy Christmas,” Crabbe and Goyle said, nearly in unison. Startled, Harry instinctively started to reach out for the packages when Ron knocked his arm back down.

“Are you crazy, Harry?” Ron exclaimed. “Who knows what’s in them; probably something that’ll explode in your face, or something!”

Harry mentally berated himself for being so gullible. “Of course. Nice try, guys,” he said to the still-kneeling Slytherins. “Maybe next year, yeah?” He would have continued to the Gryffindor table, from which Hermione eyed the present scene curiously, had Crabbe and Goyle’s expressions not turned so devastatingly heartbroken as to defy pretension.

“Wasn’t an explosion,” Crabbe muttered, his hands—and the gift in them—falling limply to his lap. “Just wanted to share the Christmas spirit.” Goyle nodded, hiccupping as he tried to choke back sobs.

Harry’s jaw dropped as he stood rooted to the spot, as equally speechless by the Slytherins’ display as Ron. Other students began to take notice, pointing and giggling. Harry looked out at them, trying to find a reasonable explanation for all this, preferably one that revolved around him still being in bed and dreaming, when he saw Malfoy push his way through the crowd.

“What the _devil_ have you done to them, Potter?” he hissed as he drew near.

Harry glared back, although he was glad to see that not everyone had lost his mind. “I haven’t done anything!” he retorted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione sidle up to Ron, hand gripping her wand.

Malfoy snorted. “They’ve been like this all morning,” he said, encompassing his henchmen’s pouting figures with one sweep of his hand. “It’s quite frankly disgusting.”

“I don’t know, Malfoy,” Harry said. “A little Christmas cheer never hurt anyone.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “They’re not full of Christmas cheer. They’re _besotted_. With you.” He spit out the last words, practically turning green at the same time.

“I...that’s...” Harry stuttered.

“What, is Potty at a loss for words?” Malfoy smirked. “Well, I suggest you find the words for the spell to fix this. Now.”

“I told you,” Harry said, “I’ve nothing to do with this!”

“Well, I certainly didn’t enchant them!”

Harry opened his mouth, but another voice cut in. “What is going on here?” Harry turned to see Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows quirked.

“Potter cast a spell on Crabbe and Goyle, Professor,” Malfoy said smoothly. “I demand that he take it off!”

“Is that so?” McGonagall asked. “Have you tried _Finite Incantatem_ , Mr. Malfoy?”

To Harry’s pleasure, Malfoy flushed. “No, Professor,” he admitted.

“Hmph.” With a pointed look, McGonagall cast the spell herself.

Goyle took that moment to look up at her, red-eyed. “We just wanted to make him happy,” he said. Both Harry and Malfoy smacked their palms against their foreheads.

“Well, Mr. Malfoy, I see no evidence of foul play here,” McGonagall said. “Perhaps you should take a page from Mr. Crabbe’s and Mr. Goyle’s book and get into the holiday spirit yourself.”

Malfoy glared at her retreating back before turning again to Harry. “I know it was you,” he said, hoisting Crabbe and Goyle up to their feet. “And when I’ve fixed them, you’re going to pay for this.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Malfoy.” With a final sneer, Malfoy led his friends back to the Slytherin table, where, from all appearances, he began a very heated discussion with them.

Harry followed Hermione and Ron to the Gryffindor table, Ron shaking his head. “Can you believe that?” he asked, piling food onto his plate. “Crabbe and Goyle are nice for the first time, and Malfoy goes accusing you of casting love spells.”

“Oh Ron, love spells are far too weak to make Crabbe and Goyle be that nice to Harry,” Hermione said. “It must have been a love potion.”

“They weren’t acting like, er, they were _in love_ with me,” Harry said, grabbing some toast. “Couldn’t they just have, I don’t know, turned nice? For the holiday?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange, though? No other holidays made them nice before.”

“No,” Ron agreed, “but Harry said he didn’t do anything to them.”

“Harry isn’t the only student in this school capable of making a love potion, Ron,” Hermione replied. She gave Harry a scrutinizing look. “And even with the Half-Blood Prince’s book, he’s probably not the best student to make one, either. No offense.”

Harry shrugged. “None taken.”

Ron chewed thoughtfully on some sausage. “Then who could it have been?” he asked, a crumb of meat landing on his plate.

Hermione gave him a withering look and opened her mouth to reply, but a ruckus from the Slytherin table drew their attention. The dishes in front of Crabbe were overturned, and he stood up and stalked out of the Great Hall. He left Malfoy staring after him, a pained expression on his face that almost made Harry feel sorry for him. He did, after all, know what it was like to fight with friends.

He sighed. “Well, whoever it was, we need to fix it.” Ron and Hermione nodded, staring at the doors through which Crabbe had disappeared.

***

Draco spent the entirety of his lessons trying to snap his friends out of their starry-eyed stupors. He was so distracted, in fact, that even Snape had cause to deduct points from Slytherin when Draco added too much hellebore to his Draught of Peace, nearly killing his classmates with the poisonous fumes. Watching Vin and Greg bat their eyelashes across the room at Potter, who at least had the decency to look massively uncomfortable, made Draco reconsider exactly how horrible a mass extermination of said students would be.

Upon exiting the dungeons after class, Draco groaned aloud when Vin and Greg made a beeline for Potter. He had hoped that, at the very least, Potter’s earlier rejection would prevent his friends from further pursuance until Draco could figure out how to cure them. However, Vin and Greg never had been the brightest Lumos spells.

Greg marched right up to Potter’s face, far too close for Draco’s and, apparently, Potter’s liking, judging by the way the Gryffindor tried to melt into the stone wall of the hallway. Predictably, Granger and Weasley stopped and turned once they realized Potter was no longer beside them.

“Harry,” Greg said brightly, “how are you?” Vin too stepped very close to Potter, looking at him expectantly.

“Er...” Potter looked towards his friends, clearly silently pleading with them for help.

Draco stepped forward. “As enjoyable as your discomfort is, Potter, I really must insist on getting my friends back.”

Potter snorted. “By all means, please.”

Grasping Greg’s arm and trying in vain to pull his stocky friend away, Draco said, “Why Potter, did you just ask me for help?”

“No way,” Potter returned immediately. He tried edging his way around Vin, but their bodies would have connected if he completed the movement. He stopped.

“Vin, Greg, let’s go.” Draco tugged at Greg’s arm again, but he didn’t budge.

“I wanna talk to Harry,” Greg said stubbornly.

Granger’s annoyingly inquisitive voice interrupted Draco’s sigh of frustration. “Er, Malfoy, this isn’t normal behaviour for them, is it?”

Draco snorted. “Well aren’t you just _brilliant_. No, of course it’s not normal to call the prat by his given name! Or to talk to him like he’s anything more than Dumbledore’s pet!”

Weasley’s face turned even redder than normal, and he stepped forward, wand in hand, but Draco didn’t miss the look Granger and Potter exchanged. “What?” Draco snapped at her. “What are you hiding?”

“Well,” Granger began slowly. She hesitated, and Draco raised his wand.

“Out with it!” he cried. “What did you do to Vin and Greg?”

“I told you,” Potter said, exasperated and still casting awkward glances at the very near Slytherins smiling dumbly at him, “I didn’t do anything to them!”

“But we might know who did,” Granger said quickly, before Draco could yell at Potter some more. “We think,”—she exchanged another look with Potter—“that someone wanted to make Harry fall in love with her.”

Draco snorted. “You’re fans obviously don’t know how much you already adore them, Potter.”

Potter and Granger both rolled their eyes, but, instead of addressing Draco, she turned to Vin and Greg. Draco was surprised to see her expression soften. “Goyle, did you eat or drink anything recently that wasn’t yours? Or anything that you didn’t know where it came from?”

Everyone turned to Greg, who finally dragged his eyes away from Potter. “Mmhmm. Some Gryffindor girl left a box of Honeydukes’ chocolate at her table after dinner last night. Vin and I took it and shared it.” He grinned and rubbed his stomach. “It was good.” Vin nodded in agreement.

“And did she have long black hair?” Granger continued. If anyone had asked Draco, she looked a little too eager; but, of course, no one asked him. When Greg nodded, Granger looked like she’d just discovered the secret behind taming a dragon.

“You took chocolate from a Gryffindor?” Draco asked incredulously. “Are you daft?”

To Draco’s chagrin, Greg’s face fell. “She wasn’t going to eat it,” he said sullenly. “Why shouldn’t I have?” Vin sniffled, and Draco felt like he’d kicked a puppy.

Suddenly Potter’s hand rested on Greg’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Goyle. He didn’t mean to be mean, did you, Malfoy?” Potter looked at Draco pointedly.

Draco’s eyes widened. Was Potter being _nice_ to his friend? To a _Slytherin_? Draco took one look at Greg’s pathetically teary eyes and sneered. “What is wrong with you?” he asked. “Why are you suddenly such a sniveling prat?”

“Malfoy,” Granger scolded when Greg and Vin started to sob. Potter patted Greg’s shoulder awkwardly, making Draco’s blood boil. Watching his best friends get chummy with his nemesis was not how he’d expected to spend his afternoon.

Granger continued, “Those chocolates must have come from Romilda Vane. She’s been talking about sneaking Harry a love potion for ages. Whatever was in them must have made Crabbe and Goyle…er…really like Harry.”

“I thought a love potion was supposed to make the drinker fall in love with the maker,” Weasley said with a frown.

Granger shrugged. “Love potions aren’t easy to brew. Maybe she got something wrong. Crabbe and Goyle are lucky they weren’t poisoned or something.”

“Lucky?” Draco shrieked. “This isn’t lucky; it’s disgusting! How can it make my best friends act like that?”

Potter sighed. “It’s a _love_ potion, Malfoy. I know you’ve never felt love, but you should at least recognize the signs.” Weasley sniggered.

Draco glared. “Of course I know what it is. I just never needed one to gain someone’s affections.”

Harry opened his mouth, but, before any words came out, Vin and Greg placed themselves in front of Draco and cracked their knuckles.

“Don’t yell at Harry anymore,” Vin said.

“Yeah,” Greg agreed. “Don’t talk to Harry that way.”

Draco stared at his friends with his jaw slack. “What. Are. You. _Doing?_ “ he hissed.

Potter crossed his arms. “Like Hermione said, Malfoy: it’s a love potion. They don’t know what they’re doing.”

Vin turned to Potter. “Oh, we know _exactly_ what we’re doing,” he said, stepping back towards Potter in some manner that Draco supposed was meant to be sultry. “Don’t we, Greg?”

Greg, who by now had also turned around, nodded. “Oh yeah,” he said lasciviously. “Exactly.”

Potter closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Draco felt bile rise in his throat. Weasley was nearly doubled over, no doubt holding in either uproarious laughter or uncontrolled vomit. Granger bit her bottom lip.

Draco had had enough. “Greg! Vin! We’re going to the infirmary!” He grabbed the upper arms of both his friends and attempted to drag them down the hall. He stopped, though, once it became clear that he couldn’t budge their bulky bodies.

“What’s at the infirmary, Draco?” Greg asked.

“Is it a surprise?” Vin added. “Can we share it with Harry?”

“NO!” Draco roared. “There’s nothing to share with the prat! I’m going to get Pomfrey to fix whatever’s wrong with you.” He glared, and, to his horror, Greg and Vin promptly burst into tears. They both turned to Harry, wailing.

“Look,” Potter said, holding his hands in front of him like a shield, “I’m sorry, Crabbe, Goyle. I’m, er, flattered. Really. But…it’s...you’re under a spell. Er, potion. What you’re feeling isn’t real!” Greg and Vin only sobbed harder, clutching each other as if Potter had told them they could never come to Hogwarts again. “Er, could you guys do me a favor?” he tried again, successfully gaining the Slytherins’ attention. “Could you go with Malfoy to the infirmary and…and listen to him? Yeah? For me?”

Was Malfoy mistaken, or did Potter’s voice sound _gentle_? He looked away from his friends only to see Potter’s regretful expression. Even as he backed away from the Slytherins, Potter looked like he wanted nothing more than to take their sobbing forms in his arms and comfort them.

“You betcha, Harry!” Vin agreed. Greg nodded as well, and they both raced to Draco’s side.

“What are ya waiting for, Draco?” Greg asked. “Let’s go!” He and Vin each grabbed one of Draco’s arms and frog-marched him down the hall. Sandwiched in between his friends, Draco took one last look back at Potter and his gang. They followed the Slytherins at a much slower pace, conversing with each other. Just before Draco turned a corner, Potter looked up at him and gave him a curt nod.

***

When Harry visited the hospital wing after dinner that night, he wasn’t sure what he expected to find. Malfoy had been at the Slytherin table, shooting daggers in Harry’s direction, but Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen. Harry had convinced Hermione and Ron that he just wanted to make sure Pompfrey had been able to find a cure, but, as he went to grasp the handle of the door, doubt crept in.

His fears were confirmed when the door swung open before he could open it and he stood face-to-face with the Crabbe and Goyle. Instead of the happy, adoring faces they’d sported mere hours ago, however, both looked positively disgusted to see Harry in front of them.

“Aw, Potter, are you sad to lose some of your adoring fans?” Malfoy asked, coming up from behind his friends.

Harry backed out of the doorway and shrugged. “Just to regain enemies. I’ve enough without you guys, you know.”

“Why Potter, I didn’t know you cared.” From within the infirmary, Pompfrey called Crabbe and Goyle back. After giving Harry one last glare, the two disappeared from the doorway. Harry just sighed and started to walk back to Gryffindor Tower.

Malfoy’s voice stopped him. “Why were you so nice to them?” Surprised at the tone, Harry turned back to see a very uncertain-looking Malfoy awaiting an answer.

After a moment of thought, Harry replied, “Potion or no potion, they were being nice to me. I had no reason to be mean to them.” When Malfoy snorted, Harry added, “It’s the choice I made. That’s it.”

When Malfoy just stared at him with no reply, Harry turned back around and left.

***

“But he didn’t even try to stop us from…from… _fawning_ all over him,” Greg said while the three Slytherins walked out of the hospital wing. Vin gagged.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Vin,” Draco said. “He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the whole situation, himself,” he continued to Greg.

His friends stopped and stared at him. “You’re the one always talking about how much he likes the attention,” Vin pointed out.

“Yeah,” Greg added. “What’s so different now?”

Feeling warmth in his cheeks, Draco elbowed his way past them down the hallway. “Nothing’s different,” he snapped. A minute passed as they neared the Slytherin common room. “I just wonder how we would have acted had the roles been reversed.”

“You mean, the Mudblood and the Weasel falling for you?” Greg cackled.

“Draco, Draco, loooooooooove me, Draco!” Vin cried in the highest pitch Draco had ever heard from him.

“Let me touch your beautiful hair, Draco! I’ve never seen gold before!” Greg reached out to Draco, who smacked his hand away.

“Ugh, knock it off.” Draco shuddered. “I’m going to have nightmares now.”

Vin and Greg continued to imitate the Gryffindors until they reached the common room, and then the rest of the evening was spent in dramatic retellings of Potter’s pathetic attempts to seduce even Slytherins, which, of course, Vin and Greg resisted most heroically. Draco retired to his dormitory before anyone else and sat at the window for a long time, deep in thought.

He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Blaise,” he greeted with a nod after turning to see who the intruder was.

“What really happened?” the other boy asked.

Draco shrugged. Count on Blaise to see through any charade. “Some Gryffindor idiot left chocolates lying around with faulty love potion in them. You know Greg and Vin.”

Blaise smirked and nodded. “I figured it was something like that. What’s got your pants all in a twist, though?”

Draco fiddled with his wand. “Potter had more than enough leverage to really hurt them. While they were still under the effects of the potion, at least. But he didn’t.” Draco looked out the window again. “Why didn’t he?”

“Potter getting under your skin again?” Blaise teased. He held up his hands in mock surrender when Draco turned to glare at him. “Okay, okay, I’ll back off. But, Draco, maybe if you weren’t such a jerk to him, he’d be nice to you, too.” And then he left, leaving Draco to stare into the darkness.

***

When Harry went to breakfast on Christmas morning, he hadn’t expected any gifts beyond the ones already at the foot of his bed. He especially did not expect to ever again see, waiting at his seat, those lumpy packages that Crabbe and Goyle had attempted to give him the week before, nor did he expect to find another package neatly wrapped in bright green paper.

Opening the note attached with silver ribbon, he read:

_Don’t think this means I’m your friend, or even that I like you. But maybe “enemy” is too harsh a word._

_D.M._

_P.S. These definitely don’t have any kind of potion in them._

Harry looked up from the note and across the Great Hall. When he caught Malfoy’s eye, the Slytherin gave a tiny nod before returning to his breakfast. Unwrapping the paper, Harry found a box of Honeydukes’ chocolates.

Throwing his head back, Harry laughed.


End file.
